Dear F;

It’s remarkable to think that in our twelve years together, we’ve had ten first days of school.

Two were mine, and a whopping eight now have been yours.

It doesn’t feel possible that eight years have passed since your very first day and now, here you are: officially a middle schooler.

If we’re really lucky, our lives are painted by these big milestones and F… we are SO lucky.

I know the first day of grade seven was scary for you, which is why I was so immensely proud to watch you take it in stride the way you always do. Four times now, you’ve had a first day at a new school, which is more than I wanted for you but has helped make you the amazing human you are. Your ability to adapt to new environments is just one of the outstanding qualities I admire so much.

That and your mad jokes, of course.

Middle school is a time of change and of discovery. It’s not always going to be easy but, like I keep saying and annoying you with… everything is temporary.

(Except tattoos, so choose wisely. TRUST ME.)

As you settle into the wild world of being a teenager, my one wish for you remains:

Eight years later, I wish that you always remain the little boy who stopped in his tracks one afternoon when a ladybug landed on his hand and marvelled at it. Because no matter how big you get, there is no greater thing than a love of learning, of exploring the world around you. I hope that never leaves you; so far, I know it hasn’t. The world is full of ladybugs and lessons, F, and they are all amazing – even the really hard ones. Especially those.

And, like always, when they’re too hard… I’m right here.